


look into your eyes and the sky's the limit

by spinningincircles



Series: drabbles [4]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Eyes, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Soft Eddie Diaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:42:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25121068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinningincircles/pseuds/spinningincircles
Summary: Buck opens his eyes, a smile slowly spreading as they meet Eddie’s, and Eddie is already lost in them. He loves everything about Buck, inside and out, but there’s something about his eyes that always manages to take his breath away.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: drabbles [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765609
Comments: 18
Kudos: 155





	look into your eyes and the sky's the limit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tkreyesevandiaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tkreyesevandiaz/gifts).



> i wrote [this blurb](https://tylerhunklin.tumblr.com/post/622761985860354048/watching-hamilton-again-and-thinking-of-the-line), zee asked for more, and it turned into an ode to evan buckley's eyes by eddie diaz ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> title from "helpless" from hamilton

They don’t often get mornings like this, where they wake up with the sun instead of an alarm clock. Where everything is slow and syrupy as they’re roused into consciousness, away from whatever dreams they were having that they may not even remember. Eddie usually wakes up first on these mornings, which is fine by him, because it gives him more time to take everything in. The softness of the sheets, the light streaming in from the slits in the blinds, the man lying half on his chest, his face pressed into Eddie’s neck, arm securely around his waist even as he’s still asleep.

The light hits Buck just right this way, illuminating his hair and the planes of his back. Eddie jokingly describes him as a Greek god come to life, but it never feels more true than when the sunlight turns his skin to gold, like Midas got to touch him before Eddie did. Eddie runs a careful hand from the base of his spine up into his curls, soaking in the warmth of him, almost surprised when he pulls his hand away and it’s not covered in glitter. He repeats his path as he feels Buck stir beneath him, slow to wake, muscles twitching as he adjusts himself to his side. Eddie scoots down, hand never leaving Buck, until they’re face to face.

Buck opens his eyes, a smile slowly spreading as they meet Eddie’s, and Eddie is already lost in them. He loves everything about Buck, inside and out, but there’s something about his eyes that always manages to take his breath away. 

They’re expressive, even more than his hands are, and they always betray what’s going on in his head, even when Eddie knows he’s trying to hold it all in. He’s looked at them long enough, studied them hard enough to know exactly what each squint, each crease, each blink means. He can tell how Buck’s feeling about something before he figures it out himself sometimes.

They change color on him all the time, too. Always blue, of course, but they shift from shade to shade: a deep sky blue first thing in the morning, a bright cerulean after an intense call, a clouded cobalt when Eddie kisses his neck right _there._ Eddie’s pretty sure he’d never be able to catalogue every color they can turn to, but that doesn’t mean he can’t try.

The thing that really gets him, though, the thing that keeps Eddie looking into Buck’s eyes as long and as often as he can, is that when he does, they look back at him like he’s something worth seeing. Like he matters. Like he’s done something in his life worthy of being looked at with that much unadulterated love, that much _awe._ And it’s not like people haven’t looked at him before: he’s seen pride from his parents, hope from Shannon, lust from strangers at bars. But those all faded eventually, and he was left with the cold reality of no one really seeing him for all that he is, good parts and bad parts and everything in between. And when no one is there to remind you of the good parts, it’s easy for them to get shoved away, overcome by doubts and fears and the general belief that happiness, true happiness, isn’t attainable. He did have Christopher, who always looked at him like he hung the moon with his bare hands, but even that became hard for him to believe, that he was really the superhero his son made him out to be.

But with Buck, with those eyes he knows better than his own, he thinks that maybe, _maybe,_ he does deserve some kind of joy, some kind of peace. Buck will look at him with the same pride and hope that didn’t stay before, and he’ll think _maybe I can keep it this time._

They’re electric now as Buck keeps looking at him and the sun gets brighter. Eddie doesn’t fight the urge to reach his hand up, tracing over Buck’s brow, from corner to corner of each eye, long eyelashes tickling his finger the whole way. He leans forward when his path is done, kissing Buck’s jaw, his lips, his nose, both eyes as they close, Buck letting out a contented sigh, wrapping his arm more firmly around Eddie’s waist. He opens them again as Eddie rests their foreheads together, and Eddie allows himself to be completely pulled under. He loses track of time — could be seconds, could be years — but there’s nowhere else he’d rather be right now.

He’s safe here, he’s whole. Buck believes in him, and he’s starting to believe in himself, too.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell about these good soft boys on [tumblr](https://tylerhunklin.tumblr.com/) with me!


End file.
